Everything's relative
by Corona 1
Summary: An offer to show someone an alternate future of their own home is a chance few would like to miss, especially when it shows how things could be in their own timeline. But, As Tracy Barlow is about to find out, everything is relative
1. Chapter 1

Hi all. I'd developed this story in my mind for some time. It is a Coronation Street/ Doctor Who crossover of sorts.

I'll be perfectly honest right here, I'm not the biggest fan of Coronation Street, but I just couldn't get this story out of my head. It had to be written down. Don't worry, it's not going to be an author's rant at certain characters, there is actually a story to it. I hope you enjoy it.

On the basis of my character, Rachel, best thing to do is look at my profile under the Professor. That'll give you some information about her.

Disclaimer: Only Rachel Columbus belongs to me.

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Tracy Barlow smiled smugly to herself after once again pulling down her rival, Becky McDonald. It was so easy to hurt someone's feelings. So very easy. Especially when they made it clear what upset them. She plastered a sickeningly sweet smile upon her face when she noticed Becky's glare from the other side of the bar. It was just far too much fun. The blonde haired woman turned away, her very aura dark and moody. All Tracy had to do was push Becky a little bit more and she was sure she would leave their lives for good, making way for Tracy to move back into Steve's attentions. She sighed happily to herself as she turned back to her job. The Rovers was busy enough at this time of day, and business had been good, especially since the tram crash. Back to normal, as if nothing had changed. Still, as busy as it was, it was surprising when the door opened and allowed in a new customer. As was customary in a local pub, those closest to the door stopped their conversations and turned their heads to the stranger. There was nothing peculiar about the woman, nothing that sprung to mind, anyway. Her hair shone a bright blonde when the light hit it, her deep green eyes shining in mischief and some kind of knowledge. Ignoring the strange looks she was getting, the woman made her way over to the bar and propped herself against the wood, waiting patiently. From behind the bar, Tracy eyed the newcomer with disdain. What was she wearing? A brown striped shirt under a brown tank top sat hidden under a rather outdated hip length leather jacket. She looked like something from the 80s. Hiding a snicker, the brown haired woman made her way over to the newcomer, a response eager to slip from her tongue. The woman perked up, smiling brightly to the approaching bar maid.

"Hello there." Her voice was cheerful, energetic.

"Um, hi." Tracy swallowed the snigger, deciding to savour the moment. There really was someone out there who had less taste than Becky McDonald. "I didn't realise there was an exhibition in town. Do you dress like that all the time?" The woman looked at her attire briefly and then looked to the barmaid again.

"Why?"

"You look like you've just come from the 1980s. Sorry, love, but times have moved on a bit since then." Her tone was sarcastic, patronising. The newcomer didn't seem to be bothered by the tone, instead deciding to play her at her own game.

"Well, better use a tried and tested model than dressing like the wannabe Princess of Persia. After all, that much jewellery can attract lightning, or didn't you know?" She watched the barmaid's expression change before continuing.

"Yeah, she didn't realise that either until she was fried. Poor thing. I think she had a screw loose somewhere. That explains wearing that much metal in a thunderstorm." She gestured to the earrings and necklace adorning the brown haired woman's features, smiling pleasantly. Tracy shook her head, scrutinizing the woman.

"Oh my God, has anyone heard about an escapee from the Loony Bin? Because I think she's here." The blonde raised an eyebrow and beamed in a strange way, leaning closer.

"Not going to shout anymore about my secret are you? Because this loon may just kill you." A flash of insecurity flitted across the barmaid's face as she backed away from the woman, holding her hands up.

"You can take this one McDonald. I don't need anymore weirdoes around me thanks." She retreated to the other end of the bar. Becky looked to the now relaxing newcomer and laughed, moving towards her.

"That...was brilliant. I didn't think there was anyone who could send Barlow running for cover."

"You should see me when I'm trying. The comebacks are much better. The name's Rae...Rachel. Rachel Columbus." Rachel reached across the bar, which was eagerly accepted by the other blonde.

"Becky McDonald. Sorry, but that is a weird name. Columbus? Isn't that the name of that explorer?"

"Yeah. No relation. Not a very popular name in most parts." Becky laughed.

"I'll say. So, seeing as Tracy didn't ask, what are you having?" Rachel seemed to ponder a moment, setting her eyes on her beverage of choice.

"I've heard this place does the finest ale in the area. Had to come and sample it."

"So you're a tourist then?"

"...Of sorts." Becky raised her eyebrow but went no further as she pulled the pint.

"So, beer drinker?" she asked, not looking away from the glass.

"Not generally, but I find that you can't scrutinize something until you've tried it yourself." Becky nodded as she named the price and handed the glass to the newcomer. Passing over the change, Rachel lifted the pint to her lips and took a long, lingering sip, eyes closed as she swirled the alcohol around her mouth before swallowing. Sighing, she opened her eyes and looked at the glass, deep in contemplation. Becky was trying to hold a laugh at bay as she watched the strange woman.

"So? Verdict?"

"A bit bitter, which is to be expected. A little heavy on the yeast and malt, but on the whole, not a bad drinker." This time, Becky couldn't help it, almost doubling over in laughter. Rachel joined her. She liked this woman. She was down to Earth enough to get along with. Unlike that other woman. Rachel imagined that this Tracy wasn't exactly popular around Wetherfield. She raised an eyebrow as said woman reappeared next to Becky, casting a snarky look at Rachel.

"Um, don't you have other customers to serve?" Becky was still laughing as she glanced at her rival.

"Yeah, go on and do them then. I'm on a break."

"Since when?"

"Since now. You wanted extra time, so go suck up to the other punters."

"Yeah, go and suck up, sucker." Tracy scowled at the woman before turning back to the object of her dislike.

"Wait 'til Steve hears about this. Another argument in the future perhaps?" Becky's face dropped slightly as she looked away, mentally counting to ten. Rachel watched Becky's expression falter a little more with each comment for a moment, before deciding to step in. Although she felt annoyance bubbling underneath the surface, she kept her voice calm.

"Tracy, aren't you standing behind the bar?" Tracy's head whipped around, glaring in utter contempt at the woman who decided the McDonald was worth sticking up for.

"I wasn't talking to you." Rachel sighed, keeping her ire at bay.

"No, but I'm talking to you. Why don't you slink off and serve the customers like a good little barmaid and allow Becky and I to talk, free of vile interruption." She put a certain emphasis on the word 'vile', her deep green eyes beginning to burn. Tracy ignored her, deciding to slander Becky.

"Well, Miss Slippy Womb? Aren't you going to serve the other customers?" Becky looked at the woman, and then glanced at the punters sitting in the booths who decided that it was far more entertaining to watch what was happening behind the bar. Tracy seemed to notice too, smiling at the sniggers and childish whispering. However, she didn't get the chance to say anything else as the newcomer stood to her full height, catching her attention and easily standing a couple of inches taller than Tracy, the expression on her face making her lithe appearance suddenly become intimidating. The sudden change in expression was far more effective at holding the sarcastic young woman's attention than grabbing hold of her collar and forcing her to look at her. Her voice became deceptively calm and cold, her eyes burning.

"Get yourself back to your job. Now. Preferably before you annoy me to the point of no return." Rachel's voice dripped with danger and hidden meaning. Tracy seemed to falter slightly at the expression on the woman's face. It wasn't an expression she was familiar with, and she wasn't quite sure how to combat it. She looked back to Becky and lowered her voice.

"This isn't over, McDonald," she hissed, glaring at the newcomer and walking towards the gathering customers. Becky quickly wiped away an angry tear before looking at the woman she had only just met, thanks shining in her eyes. Rachel winked, immediately relaxing. How was it possible that someone could glare the cow down? Especially someone who had only just arrived? It was official. She liked this woman. Becky cleared her voice and leaned towards the woman.

"Seeing as you're a tourist here, do you have anywhere to stay?" Rachel drank from her glass, stopping only to ponder the question.

"Well, I was just going to find a B and B close by." Becky shook her head.

"After that show, I think I'll be happier with you staying here. just say you didn't have the money for a bed and breakfast." Rachel seemed to think on it a moment.

"I'm not sure..."

"I insist. Don't worry about Steve. I'll handle him. please. It would mean a lot to actually feel like I have a friend around here." The woman smiled softly to Becky, nodding.

"In that case, I'd be delighted." Shaking hands with the barmaid, Becky beamed.

"Rachel Columbus, welcome to Coronation Street."

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Ok, that's the first chapter. Constructive Criticism is welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

Ok, Chapter 2. Thank you to alicelily for your lovely review. Hope you enjoy this one.

Disclaimer: Only Rachel is mine. You can keep the rest.

... change in place

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Rachel travelled light, apparently, carrying only what she had in her pockets and the clothes she wore on her back. She now reclined in the sofa, chatting to Becky (who had now decided to take the rest of the afternoon off) and sipping at a cup of tea, sighing in content.

"Nothing like a good cuppa after a good beer. Though, I have to say I'm not sure that I see the attraction. It's not the best tasting alcohol in the universe." Becky laughed.

"I dunno. It gets the job done pretty quick. And anyway, you can't have tried all the alcohol in the universe, so you can't say that." Rachel smiled, a small, knowing glint in her eye. She sank into the deceptively comfortable seat. Becky sat next to her, one leg bent underneath her and resting an elbow on the back of the chair. She shifted a little, getting more comfortable.

"Can I ask you something? Where are you from? I mean, I'm terrible with accents, and I'm just being a curious cow, I know." Rachel smiled and sat up a little, setting her cup down.

"Oh, here and there. Don't have a home per se. I'm a bit of a traveller, unless I find somewhere to settle down. Haven't quite found anywhere yet." The woman nodded.

"You're homeless?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes." Becky cast her gaze down. She could sympathise.

"Don't you have any family? At all?"

"Nope. No family. No ties. Free to travel wherever I please. Literally." Rachel's expression changed from solemn to beaming so fast, Becky was left wondering if she had simply imagined it. Becky smiled, leaning her head on her hand, her eyes glazing over in a daydream.

"Wow. That sounds fantastic. Wish I could do something like that."

"What's stopping you?" It was Becky's turn to look down.

"Ties. Don't get me wrong, I love my family to bits. I wouldn't change them for the world. I just wish that...I could do something." Rachel nodded, understanding immediately.

"Well, maybe, if you get the free time..." Rachel left her suggestion hanging a little, sighing and smiling. She patted the young woman on the shoulder, picking up her cup again. The beverage had just touched her lips when the door all but slammed open and a man walked in, almost glaring at Becky. She seemed to match his glare, her jaw set, expecting an argument. He only ever came in like that when he was going to argue with her. He looked to the stranger, his blue eyes warring with her green ones. Behind him, Tracy peeked over his shoulder, trying to hide a smirk and failing miserably.

"Becky, can I have a word." His voice was a little clipped as he tried to be polite for the sake of their guest. Becky shuffled in the chair, facing him.

"Yeah."

"In private." Becky made no move. She could see Tracy trying to hide her smile behind the sleeve of her top as she looked at her. The blonde cocked an eyebrow, tilting her head and allowing her short hair to flop from her neck. She knew exactly what it was about, and she wasn't about to let Steve give her an ear-bashing simply for not involving him in her decision.

"Steve, Rachel can hear whatever you have to say." Said woman glanced between them, waiting for the perfect moment to butt in and push it just a little further in her favour.

"No, Becky..." There. The perfect moment.

"So, you're Steve, huh? Good to meet you. Becky's told me all about you. All good things." Rachel stood, a bright grin on her face, reaching her hand out to the landlord. Steve seemed to be at a loss for a moment before taking the proffered hand and shaking it. "I have to tell you, I am very grateful for you letting me stay here. I'll be no trouble. Promise. Only have a bit of change on me, I'm afraid. Lost my purse you see."

"Um..."

"So, if you don't mind, I'm sure we can sort sleeping arrangements. Gotta say, I like that sofa. Very comfy. That is, if it's no problem." Any irritation that Steve had felt towards Becky seemed to have vanished for the moment thanks to Rachel's sudden onslaught. She winked at the now sour faced brown haired woman behind him, beaming brightly. Tracy frowned and stormed from the room. The newcomer turned back the man, her eyes gleaming.

"So, you don't mind, do you?"

"Well...It would have been nice for _someone _to have told me first." Becky pouted, stroking his arm.

"Sorry, babe. It was one of those spur of the moment things. I mean, I know there's a B'n'B nearby, but she doesn't have very much money on her." He rolled his eyes and sighed.

"And how exactly is she going to pay rent?" The irritation was coming back again. Rachel seemed to be very observant, picking up on it almost immediately.

"Any jobs going?" Steve turned, almost as if remembering that the woman was still standing there.

"Umm..."

"Just, I noticed that the bar is run by two ladies. And this is a popular place. I can always work to pay my keep. Put me on temp staff? Always wanted to pull a pint." Did she really speak that fast? Seriously, it was almost a hundred words a minute, if one wanted to over-exaggerate just a little. Steve's brain seemed to visibly stop working for a moment as he processed what was said.

"Umm..." Rachel smiled, turning to Becky, quite unable to contain herself.

"Is he always so eloquent?" The young woman grinned. Steve simply sighed. Well, it wasn't as if she was expecting payment, she was almost paying for the opportunity to work behind the bar. It just meant that there was one more woman huddled under one roof, and he wasn't sure he could handle the pent up hormones.

"Oh alright. But just until something else comes along. I mean it Becky." He pointed to the now overjoyed young woman as she clapped her hands and planted a kiss on his cheek. Holding his face, she grinned.

"You won't regret it, babe. Promise."

"Yeah, well, I'd better not. I've already had plenty that I regret from you, thank you very much." He left the comment hanging, clearing his throat as the atmosphere became thicker and more awkward, deciding to let the fact that only Tracy was in the bar slide for the moment. "Right, I'm going to get Amy and Max from Ken and Deidre's. I'll be back soon." Becky beamed, the happiest she had felt in a long time. Rachel smiled along with her, hugging the younger woman and laughing.

...

Steve pulled his jacket on and placed his hand on the door handle, but got no further. Tracy reappeared next to him, determined to make him see things her way.

"Steve, you're not really going through with this, are you?"

"What?"

"Letting _her_ get her way. We don't even know anything about this woman and you're happy to let her stay here?"

"Yeah, I am. Got a problem with that?"

"Er, yeah. I do actually, seeing as we're going to have a complete stranger near _our_ daughter. She could be a serial killer or something for all we know, and you're happy to let her near Amy?" Steve looked at Tracy, taking in the almost pleading look on her face. Almost pleading. There remained a glint in her eye that told him Amy was mainly an excuse to get her own way. This time, however, Steve wasn't falling for it.

"Tracy, I've already made up my mind. If you don't like it, you're just going to have to live with it, aren't you?" With that, he opened the door and exited the pub, leaving the woman standing in the hallway alone, a sour expression once again on her face. In front of her, she could hear the laughter from McDonald and that new lady, while to her left, the late afternoon punters were chattering. She sighed and stormed to the front of house. She decided that whoever this Rachel was, she hated her.

...

Rachel sat in the living room, listening to Becky explaining how great it would be now that she was working alongside her, quite glad that she didn't have to suffer any snide comments alone. Rachel smiled and winked at her. All the while, she listened to the conversation between Steve and Tracy, about herself. The closed door meant that it was quite muffled, but she had remarkably good hearing. She cocked an eyebrow as she listened in. This Tracy was beginning to grate on her. In fact, from what Becky was now telling her, Tracy grated on everyone. It was, according to Becky, the only thing she was good at. Rachel smiled a little as he mind worked over the information she had received. She turned to Becky.

"Don't worry about Miss Barlow, Becky. I'm afraid to say that she'd be messing with the wrong one if she decides to take on me. I can be quite...influential, shall we say." Becky frowned a little, sitting up straighter.

"How d'you mean?"

"Let's just say that when the time comes, Tracy Barlow is going to get the shock of her life. Mark my words. And I shall say no more than that." Becky smiled, already thinking up her own ideas of what the woman could mean, completely unaware that the lady sitting next to her was beginning to form a plan in her mind; one that, if played out right, would change the course of the subject's life.

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Once again, Constructive Criticism is always welcome. Thanks for reading and stay tuned for the next chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys! I'm actually quite enjoying thinking over and writing this story. Now, I know this chapter is only short, but I felt it was good one to finish off establishing Rachel into the world of Coronation Street. Hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: Only Rachel belongs to me.

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The living room was shrouded in night and shadow, silent and eerie now that the usual occupants had retired to bed. It seemed strange, otherworldly almost, for the building to be so quiet. Especially when one considered that this was a busy public house. Rachel shifted on the sofa, hands resting across her stomach and eyes gazing to the ceiling, lost in contemplation. To say that she had enjoyed her first time behind the bar would be an understatement. Listening to the different conversations, getting to know the locals and simply experiencing something akin to a normal life. And, it had been quite fun to work alongside Becky. She smiled to herself as she replayed the happenings in her mind. Tracy had not been happy about the stranger staying there. The woman did not like the newcomer at all. Not that Rachel could blame her. After all, she had stood up to the brown haired woman, something Tracy didn't seem very used to. Add to that the growing confidence in her new friend's eyes, and it had shaped up to be quite a pleasant day. Rachel crossed her legs at the ankles, resting them on the arm of the sofa, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. Becky had tried every possible way to persuade her to use the spare bedroom, but found her new friend to be stubborn. After all, she didn't want to intrude too much on their lives. She sighed, closing her eyes. _Creak_. Her eyes opened again, her head tilting back to look behind to the door. _Creak._ Eyebrow cocking in interest, she kept her eyes on the door, even if it was upside down. Someone was on the stairs, and coming to her makeshift bedroom. She watched the door inch open, and though the person was trying to be quiet, they weren't succeeding.

"You can come in, Becky. I'm awake." the movement froze in surprise, and then swung open fully. The young woman stepped in, closing the door behind her.

"Sorry, Rach. Thought you'd be asleep. It is two in the morning." Rachel smiled, tipping her head forward again.

"Yeah, well. Why are you up and about at this time?" Stretching, she swung her legs around, almost throwing herself off the sofa. She caught herself just in time, pushing back away from the edge. Becky shrugged, moving to the seat when she received an invitation to sit. Rachel leaned back a little more, quite comfortable on the seat.

"Just can't sleep. Wanted to see how you were."

"Ah. Insomnia?"

"You what?"

"You know. Inability to sleep normally?"

"Oh. No, just can't sleep tonight. Just wanted a chat." She grinned, smile widening as Rachel once again cocked an eyebrow.

"I see. Ok then." Becky shifted, turning to her.

"So? Why are you awake?"

"Hm? Oh, just a busy mind, that's all." She rested her head on the backrest, settling down.

"Watcha thinking about?"

"Just where I'm going to go next, the people I'm going to meet, the things I'm going to see." Becky straightened, a concerned sort of shock shining in her dusty blue eyes.

"You're not going already, are you?" Rachel glanced to her, lifting her head.

"Hm? No, no. Not just yet. I'm just thinking ahead." She chuckled. "That's not something I often do." She didn't seem convinced. "Becky, I've already told you that I'm not going anywhere. I told you yesterday, didn't I? Ok, I don't stop around anywhere for too long, and I'm always on the move. But that doesn't mean I can't stop here for at least a little while. Besides, I have things I want to sort out here." She seemed to relax to Rachel's words, leaning back again. Rachel chuckled to herself, eyes once again fixed to the ceiling.

"What?"

"Max is a bit of a charmer, isn't he? And that Amy. Cute kids."

"Yeah they are. Love 'em to bits." Rachel smiled, allowing the silence to fall between them. "Would you ever have kids?" Rachel seemed to stiffen, eyes glazing over. A mask a grief flashed over her face, almost too quickly. Becky still caught it. She frowned.

"I don't know. Maybe one day." She didn't meet the younger woman's eyes, she couldn't. The young blonde nodded, eyes cast to the ground in thought. Something seemed to click into place for her.

"Have you ever had kids? Like, ever?" Silence, heavy and choking. Becky almost wished she'd kept her nose out, especially when Rachel's eyes seemed to dampen in memory.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked..."

"...yes." The answer was so quiet, she almost missed it. Almost.

"Huh?"

"Yes. I did. Once. I had a son. A long time ago. Lost him in...an accident."

"Oh Rach! I'm so sorry, I didn't know." Rachel coughed, seeming to shake herself out of her depressive trance.

"Well, of course you didn't know. You weren't there after all. As I say, it was a long time ago." She grinned brightly, though her eyes still seemed dull. "But enough of that. It's too late to be discussing this sort of thing. Now go on, off with you." The humour had returned to her voice, energy returning to her eyes. Becky smiled a little, pushing herself up from the sofa.

"I'm glad you turned up, I feel I can talk to you. Weird isn't it?" Rachel grinned.

"Yes, weird. Now go on." She shooed her away. The door opened, though the barmaid stood and looked back.

"You are going to sleep now, aren't you?"

"Bed, McDonald!" She giggled a little, retreating back up the stairs. Rachel chuckled, laying back down on the sofa, allowing her mind to wander. Memories of her family flashed by her eyes, happy memories of times spent in familiar fields of red grass, under a burnt orange sky...

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So, a little hint to the fact that Rachel is not quite what she seems.

Constructive criticism is as welcome as always.


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